


stuck where i'm sitting

by trashinc



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Consensual Underage Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Reluctant Hopper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21129116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashinc/pseuds/trashinc
Summary: This is how Jim Hopper falls to ruin. A fiery little redhead with a dirty mouth and a pretty face.





	stuck where i'm sitting

**Author's Note:**

> For my sweet Garbage CFO as revenge :)

Maxine Mayfield is a hazard. 

She’s never been polite or a particularly good influence on El. But Jim has always tolerated, and even encouraged, her presence because she seems to be El’s only female friend. It’s better Max than any of the other cretins who might get ideas above their station. 

The problem is how Max dresses. She used to wear reasonable clothes. But since the summer started, things have gotten out of hand. It’s not just the crop tops and short shorts she has on when she walks through the door. Her so-called pajamas are much worse. Jim’s lost count of how many times he’s walked into the kitchen and seen Max bent over, rummaging through the bottom shelf, round ass on unobscured display because she’s in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a thong. Sometimes, the scrap of cloth doesn’t even cover her shaved pussy. A fifteen-year-old girl should not own a thong or shave there. 

When she stands up, holding one of _ his _ beers, she always smiles and says “heya hop” as she bounces by—like she didn’t just give him an eyeful. Or maybe she knows she did and it’s payment for the alcohol. God. Jim should not have those sorts of thoughts. Which is why he tries his best to avoid interacting with Max at all. 

She makes it difficult. 

She and El are always taking over the living room, begging and pouting until he hands over the remote and retreats to the porch. She always seems to be waiting for the bathroom when he walks out of it much too late at night. When she showers, god when she showers, she’ll strut out wrapped in a towel that barely brushes the tops of her thighs. She doesn’t always go right back to El’s room to put on clothes. 

It seems improbable that Max has no idea what she’s doing to him. The alternative is much worse to contemplate. If she’s doing it all on purpose—Jim just isn’t equipped to cope with that. So he doesn’t think about it. 

***

Jim is sitting on the couch with El on one side and Max on the other. He should absolutely not be where he is. But the girls wanted to watch a scary movie. They outright demanded he watch it with them in case it got to be too much. They’ve both seen a lot of awful things. Jim gave in because he didn’t want either of them to get panicky or actually terrified. 

After the first movie played El put on _ Desperately Seeking Susan _as a palate cleanser. Then she promptly fell asleep. She’s dozing with her head against his shoulder. She tends to have trouble sleeping. Lots of nightmares. So he doesn’t want to move and wake her. 

Max is not asleep. She’s cuddled against him, wearing a tank top that dips real low and a pair of flimsy shorts that do not cover her. Especially when she’s sitting cross-legged. If he looked down, he’d be able to see everything. He is resolutely not looking down. The movie plays, and Jim’s not really paying attention, he’s just sitting with his arms draped across the back of the couch, tense. Max keeps squirming. Moving around like she can’t get comfortable. 

He knows what’s happening, when she’s practically on her side, and she drapes a thick thigh over his. He can feel her press against him and rock her hips. It’s not subtle. 

Jim should tell her to stop and he doesn’t. He’s paralyzed. 

Max seems to take the silence as encouragement. She starts to move in a regular motion, grinding her pussy on him, letting out soft little noises. If he doesn’t look at her, he can pretend this isn’t happening. Even if he’s grabbing the couch with white knuckles and he’s filling out in his jeans. 

He wonders how wet she is. If she’s soaked through those thin shorts. 

El stirs, sniffling a little. Max pauses. She shifts off Jim again, sitting more normally but still leaning against him. Before he can relax, or even start to hope it’s over, Max sticks a hand down the front of her shorts. Jim can here the slick noises as she fingers herself. She’s panting. She slides her other hand down to join the first. Presumably rubbing her clit. Jim’s not gonna watch. He’s still staring straight ahead. 

Max tenses. Shudders. She lets out a breathy moan as she comes. 

Fuck. 

Jim’s gonna have a heart attack. He’s going to drop dead right there. He’s hard, and he’s dizzy, and god_ damn _ he just wants to grab Max and fuck into her hard and fast. 

Jim isn’t a good person. He tries his best not to be a complete piece of shit. He’s never contemplated touching El, for even half a second. He doesn’t chase after girls who are much too young. He would never dream of going after someone like Max of his own accord. 

He has to get out of here. He stands abruptly. El flops onto her side, not fully waking up. She rests her head against a pillow, curling into a ball. Max watches him wide eyed, hands still down her pants, as he strides quickly out the front door. He gets into his truck and starts driving. Doesn’t know where he’s going. Doesn’t go far before he pulls onto the side of the road. 

Jim is disgusted with himself. He can’t help it. He unzips his pants and fists his cock with a spit slick palm. He’s got an arm braced on the steering wheel, eyes closed, thinking about how warm and soft Max felt pressed against him. How hot she’d be on the inside. She’s tiny. At least a foot shorter than him. She must be so tight. 

He comes with gritted teeth and an intense wash of self-loathing. He cleans up with some tissues and keeps driving. He goes to the bar. Has a few drinks. Doesn’t get home until after last call. The couch is empty and the lights are off. He goes to bed and hopes for dreamless sleep. 

***

Jim makes a point to not be in the house the next few times El tells him Max is coming over. It’s safer that way. Even if it means the girls are definitely getting into his whiskey. He’d rather them drink at the cabin than somewhere else. 

He does worry about Max bringing boys over. The way she behaves, he knows she must be promiscuous. El isn’t like that. He hopes. She’s promised that Max is the only one she has over if he’s not around. He figures he has Mike Wheeler appropriately terrified that it’s a promise he might be able to trust. 

It’s a Saturday night. The bar just closed. Jim’s buzzed, driving home slow and careful, smoking a cigarette. He’s in a good mood. Looking forward to the leftover pizza in the fridge. 

The cabin’s windows are dark when he pulls up. It’s a little past two in the morning. He doesn’t bother heating up the pizza when he gets inside. He just eats it from the box, cold pepperoni and all. 

He pours himself a fresh glass of jack on the rocks. Looks at the couch. Decides his bed is more comfortable. He’s thinking about lighting up a joint as he opens the door. 

He can make out the shape on his bed. It’s moving. Panic spikes through him. He flicks on the light ready to go for his gun and… 

Max is staring up at him, completely naked, three fingers in her drenched pussy. She’s so pink and slick. Her hands are small, but she still looks stuffed full. Her nipples are hard in the cold air. She’s got big tits for such a small girl. They’re perky, pale under bikini tan lines, with a light dusting of freckles where she’s been in the sun. 

Shit. 

Jim immediately backs out the door and closes it. He’s standing outside his own goddamn bedroom. Reeling. This can’t. What. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He hisses. Probably not quiet enough. 

_ “Uh… it wasn’t obvious?” _ Her voice is a bit muffled by the layer of wood. Snarky as usual. Who gave her the right to sound so catty right now? He just caught her masturbating in his bed. 

“I mean _ why? _ For the love of Christ.” He knocks back his whiskey for strength. Realizes that might be a bad way to phrase the question a little late. 

_ “Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to wake El up.” _ Her breath hitches. 

Is she still going?

“Well get dressed.”

_ “I’m not done.” _

“Maxine!”

_ “You could help if you want it to be over faster.” _

“Stop it this instant and put some clothes on.”

_ “Hmmm. What if I don’t? Gonna come in and make me?” _

Teenage girls. They’re awful. Jim turns around and goes out to the porch. He grabs his whiskey on the way. He smokes three cigarettes and has several glasses of jack. 

When he goes back inside his door is open and Max is gone. The sheets are peeled back and there’s a large wet spot. He’s thankfully too drunk to get hard. He sleeps fitfully on the dry side of the bed. 

***

Max is not allowed to sleep over anymore. El is upset and demands an explanation. Jim says it’s the whiskey. He doesn’t like how much they drink. He gets a week of the silent treatment. It’s not ground he’ll give on, so eventually El stops pouting. 

Maybe it’s a pointless reaction. The damage is already done. The image is seared in his brain. 

All Jim can think about is Max’s tight little cunt. The harder he tries to push it out of his head, the worse it gets. She looked so slick. He still wonders if he’d even be able to fit inside her. He’s got a thick cock. Definitely wider than even four of her fingers. 

Part of him wants to ban her from his house entirely. But he knows that’s not fair. She’s just a confused, horny teenager. He’s an adult that should know better. He should have some fucking self control. 

Jim’s never been terribly good about the whole _ discipline _ thing. Even the US army didn’t really manage to beat it into him. He still smokes too much. Drinks too much. Eats too much. A kid in the house has made him a little less of a Lothario. But he still has a _ reputation _. Charming at the bar, hell of a ride, then he leaves the next morning without much of a goodbye. He’s a force of unbridled hedonism.

So it’s easier if Max just isn’t around. 

***

El is staying with the Byers tonight. Will is undoubtedly a queer and Joyce isn’t gonna let any of the other boys sleep over—so it’s honestly less to worry about than if El spends the night at the Hargrove house. Jim doesn’t trust that Billy kid. El could toss him across the room if push came to shove. But he’d hate for her to be in a position where she had to. He refuses to contemplate a scenario where she wouldn’t want to. 

Jim is looking forward to an empty house. It’s six o’clock on a Friday. He’s going out tonight. He’s gonna bring someone pretty home. Doesn’t know who yet, just that he will. If it’s slim pickings at the local watering hole, he might even drive to the next town over. He’s got no responsibilities until tomorrow afternoon. The world is his oyster. 

It all comes to an abrupt halt when he walks through the door and sees Max sitting at his kitchen table, beer in her hand, cigarette between her lips, bare feet swinging just off the floor. She’s in a lime green tube top and cutoff jeans that are short enough to be more of a bathing suit than anything. She’s not wearing a bra. He can see her nipples under the stretchy fabric. Her hair is wild and loose. Her cherry red lipstick and dark black eyeliner look trashy in the particular way Jim has always found irresistible. 

“Heya Hop,” she smiles. Takes a long drag and exhales a smooth cloud. 

He doesn’t know how it’s possible to feel ambushed by such a small girl. His first instinct is still to back up against the wall. He stands his ground. Tries to look calm. 

“Hello Max. Uh. El isn’t here.”

“No shit.” Max laughs at him. 

She’s got a delicate jawline. Freckled nose and cheeks. If she dressed nicer, she’d be a classic beauty. Maybe that’s what she’ll grow up to be. As it is. She looks cheap. The sort of girl you pick up at the end of the night when she’s stumbling in her high heels, wearing ripped fishnets and no panties. 

Maybe it’s all a cry for help. Maybe he should sit down with her and ask what’s wrong. Who hurt her. What awful thing happened to make her this way. 

“It’s my birthday.” She says it so casual, ashing her cigarette on the table. “Sweet sixteen.”

“Happy birthday,” Jim grunts. He wants to ask why she’s here of all places. He doesn’t want the answer. 

She knocks back the beer. He watches her throat bob. She leaves the empty can on the table. Drops the end of her cigarette into it. She stands up and walks over to him. Hips swaying so wide it must be on purpose. The urge to back away is stronger than ever. 

“Uh—Max…”

“I’m legal now. That’s why you won’t touch me, right?” She’s in reaching distance. Big blue eyes staring up at him.

“You—you’re still way too young. Christ, you’re friends with my daughter.”

“So?” She shrugs. “What’re you, thirty-five?”

“Max!”

“I’ve had older.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

“Wanna give me their names so I can arrest them?”

“I’m not a narc.” She steps even closer. Traces her fingers along his belt. “I know you want me. You stare at me. What’s the problem?”

“I’ve told you the problem. You’re not listening.”

Max drops to her knees. So fast Jim barely knows what’s happening. She’s breathing warm air on his rapidly hardening cock. 

“I’d be good.” She licks her lips. “People say I have a nice mouth.”

The devil can look so sweet and harmless. Jim’s brain is going foggy as the blood rushes downwards. He’s not thinking clearly. 

Max fumbles with his belt buckle. She pops open the button of his tan slacks and pulls down the zipper. Goddamnit. He’s still in his uniform. That just makes everything so much worse. She reaches into his boxers and pulls his dick out. Just her small, warm hand wrapped around him feels so nice.

_ “Shit,” _she whines. “Thought you’d be big but. Shit.”

She spits in her palm. Strokes him with a loose grip. She flicks her tongue out and traces it over the head of his cock. He can’t suppress the groan. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides. He wants to grab her hair and hold her still while he fucks her throat. He shouldn’t be letting this happen. He should push her away. He should make her leave. 

Then her mouth is stretched around the head of his cock and all moral quandaries go out the window. He can’t help pushing forward into that wet heat. She moans around him. She’s got a hand between her legs, rubbing herself through her shorts. What a fucking slut. 

He rocks into her mouth. She’s leaving lipstick marks on his cock. He edges against the back of her throat and she doesn’t gag. Fuck. 

She bobs her head, maintaining eye contact. She knows how good she looks. Legs spread wide, touching herself, letting the spit run down her chin. It’s a little sloppy. Way too skillful. She should be choking, unable to do more than just suck on the tip of his dick. Instead she’s close to deepthroating it. He doesn’t want to know where she’s gotten the practice. But goddamn if he doesn’t appreciate it. 

Max unbuttons her shorts and sticks her hand inside them. Underneath a pair of lacy black panties. Rubbing her clit. 

That breaks the dam. 

Jim fists a hand in her hair and pulls back. She seems startled. Then he bends down, grabs her ass, and picks her up. She doesn’t weigh nearly enough. Even with her developing curves, she must be about a hundred pounds soaking wet. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist. She dips in and presses their lips together. A little shy, considering the circumstances. Jim licks into her mouth. She gasps. Kisses him back. She rocks her hips, grinding against his stomach. 

They barely make it to the bed. Jim contemplates just fucking her bent over the kitchen table, or pressed against the living room wall, but if he’s gonna do this. Well. At least he can try to be nice about it. Or, nice as he can make himself be. 

He tosses her onto the mattress. Pulls her shorts and panties off. He just tugs the tube top down enough to expose her tits. She squirms on the bed, flushed under her freckles. Jim kicks off his shoes, unbuttons his shirt, drops his pants, and gets on the mattress. He has to taste her. Not just to be polite, but because he really, _ really _wants to. 

He gets his face between her thighs and she moans so pretty. She’s dripping. Her clit is so hard when he licks it. He drags his tongue over her whole pussy. She’s salty and just a little sweet. She jerks underneath him. Whimpering. Grinding on his face. _ Don’t stop, don’t stop, please. _He can’t feel her pussy twitching. She’s coming already. 

He slips a finger in her. Reaches up to play with her nipples. She doesn’t stop shivering. In fact, he grabs his hair and uses it as a handle to pull him closer. It’s maybe a minute before she squeezes around his finger. He can feel the gush of slick. 

Holy Jesus. 

Two fingers is a tight fit. Gets her off again easy. She’s fever warm. So silky smooth. She pushes his head away, panting. 

“C’mon. Gimmie your dick. I can take it.”

Jim’s not so sure about that. But he also wants desperately to be inside her. So. He crawls up the bed. He presses the head of his cock against her soft, wet pussy. Just slides against it, rubbing between her lips, brushing against her clit. 

_ “Fuck me,” _ she snaps. Equal parts breathy and indignant. 

Jim’s not sure he’s ever met someone so pushy in the sack. He doesn’t hate it. 

It’s heaven when he presses into her. She moans loud. Clutches at his shoulders, fingernails digging into skin. She swears under her breath. High pitched. Maybe edging at panicked. _ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

“You OK?” Jim doesn’t move. He’s only about halfway in. He doesn’t want to stop. He also doesn’t want to hurt her. 

“Yeah just… god. Your cock is fat.”

Before he can ask if she wants to keep going, she moves underneath him. Rocking against him. Taking more of his cock. She’s so fucking tight. Feels like a virgin, even though he knows she isn’t. 

Maybe he wants to pretend, just for a moment. Maybe he wants to get lost in the fantasy that she’s some sweet, innocent, helpless little thing. Her lips are swollen and smeared with the remnants of her makeup. The mascara has run. She looks like Joyce did on prom night. Jim wasn’t her date. He still fucked her in the truck bed of his Ford, spread out over some dusty blankets, because Lonnie Byers was an asshole that stood her up and Jim was always her shoulder to cry on.

Max pulls him down into a messy kiss. He can’t help himself. He rolls his hips, edging deeper until he bottoms out. She flutters around him, whimpering into his mouth. He wants to flip her over on her hands and knees so he can watch himself slide into her. But she’s clinging to him like a liferaft. He’s not gonna make her let go. Even if he wants to see what she looks like split open on his dick. 

“Give it to me. Wreck me.” She mumbles. She sounds a little dazed. Breathless. 

Who is Jim to deny a girl who knows what she wants?

Jim fucks her hard and deep. The bed frame creaks. She’s bouncing on the mattress with the force of his thrusts. She’s moaning, and whining, and _ coming _ so fast. She gushes around him. Clamping down so tight it almost knocks the wind out of him. 

“Jesus.” Jim grunts. He doesn’t slow down. If anything, he picks up speed.

Max is almost snarling. Clawing up his back. Bucking against his thrusts like a wild thing. “Yeah, like how my pussy feels? Bet it’s the best you’ve had in years.”

He’s never heard a girl talk that way. He’s too gone to be concerned about it. Instead he just says, “so good, baby. Feel so fuckin’ good.”

“You gonna fuck a load into me, Daddy?”

And that smacks Jim sideways. He’d stop if he could. He can’t. Instead he’s just pumping into her, lost in the wet slap of skin. She’s so perfect. Got him higher than the best weed he’s ever smoked.

“Don’t call me that,” is all he can manage. It’s a low, barely intelligible grunt.

“I’ll call you whatever I want.” She gasps. “Come in me, Daddy.”

“Are you—are you on the pill?”

“Yeah. Don’t you wanna?”

“Fuck… yes.”

“That’s right. Make your little cumslut. Do it.”

She’s shuddering again. Squirting. Jim can’t be expected to deal with this. So. He falls apart. He fucks into her as hard and deep as he can, and he lets go. It’s so intense his head is spinning. He wants to collapse on top of her, but he’s a little worried about crushing her. So he sits back. 

He finally gets to look at her glistening, pink pussy, stretched around his softening cock. He pulls out and watches his come dribble out of her. It’s enough to make his dick twitch.

Jim flops down on the bed next to her, panting. Sweaty. Utterly exhausted. She grabs the pack of cigarettes sitting on his nightstand and helps herself to one. She lights it up exhales a satisfied sigh.

“How long before you can get it up again?” She squirms closer to him, curling against his side, draping one of her legs over his.

“Uh…”

“If it’s longer than like an hour, you gotta eat me out until you’re hard.”

“I don’t _ have _ to do anything.” Jim wrinkles his nose. With the fog of arousal dissipating, her pushiness is less charming. Or rather, it should be. Allowing her to talk this way seems like a bad idea. But she’s also naked and she’s pressing her wet cunt against his hip. 

“I mean. If you wanna fuck me some more, you’re gonna.” Max blows smoke right in his face. “El’s not coming home till tomorrow. It’d be a shame to waste the opportunity.”

Jim wants to argue. He really does. But then Max shifts further on top of him. She straddles his waist, sits back, bracing a hand on his chest. She starts to rock her hips, rubbing off against his stomach, while she smiles and smokes his cigarette. Her tits are bouncing a little with the motion. She starts gasping. It’s probably exaggerated. But she’s also leaving a massive slippery spot on him. 

“If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you fuck my ass,” she bites her lip. “Would you like that, Daddy?”

This is it. This is how Jim Hopper falls to ruin. A fiery little redhead with a dirty mouth and a pretty face. He can’t help himself. He grabs her plump, round ass cheeks and squeezes. 

“Yeah, baby. I think I’d like that just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- VP of Trash


End file.
